


You Should Go

by Ghostinthehouse



Series: Demon and Angel Professors [101]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Professors, Disabled Crowley (Good Omens), Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, Other, intimidation tactics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25118413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ghostinthehouse/pseuds/Ghostinthehouse
Summary: Crowley's own phone buzzed, and he answered it without ever taking his other hand off Aziraphale.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Demon and Angel Professors [101]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1412962
Comments: 46
Kudos: 957
Collections: Aspec-friendly Good Omens





	You Should Go

Crowley's own phone buzzed, and he answered it without ever taking his other hand off Aziraphale. As he read the text, his face tightened. "Gabriel's discovered the chat. Gone 'ballistic' apparently."

Aziraphale's face froze into something masklike, and his eyes flickered to the students surrounding them. "Is that - him?"

The corner of Crowley's mouth ticked fractionally up in acknowledgement. "No. A bystander. But if you don't want him to - lecture - you in person, we should be going." He pushed himself up. His knee buckled, and he landed back on the bench with a hiss of pain and a muted snarl.

They exchanged a long look, silently debating whether they'd be able to escape in time under current conditions. Crowley finally surrendered and tipped his head back to tell the students, "You lot should certainly clear off. No sense in being caught in our crossfire." Pain draped an edge on his voice, but there was no real bite to the words.

"Not happening," the nearest student replied, stubborn, but wary. "We've seen the chat. We're not abandoning Dr Fell to - that." A chorus of agreement echoed from the remnants of the defensive circle.

"Then go guard the doors and give him some _space_ ," Crowley groused back.

There was a shuffle of uncertain feet, and he was fairly sure some of them were still eyeing him warily, like he was another person that Aziraphale had to be guarded from, despite the Anthony revelation. It always took at least a few days for students to fully process and merge the two concepts and they hadn't had that yet. It'd probably take longer this year anyway.

Crowley sighed, and grumbled, "Go on, I won't bite him."

At the same moment, Aziraphale said, "It's fine, he won't bite me."

They looked at each other and rolled their eyes at themselves, but it did at least make the students relax and move away a bit.

Crowley draped his arm along the back of the bench and went back to humming the old song that had played in the restaurant the first time Aziraphale had taken him out to dine rather than the pair of them "accidentally" meeting each other. There were good memories attached to it, but more than that, it was one of the handful of songs that they'd both admit to enjoying. Aziraphale, in his turn, accepted the offered plausible deniability and leaned back a little, his shoulders resting against Crowley's wrist. Crowley rolled his hand and traced gentle, hidden, arcs across Aziraphale's spine with his thumb.

There was a stir by the door, and the students surged towards it, bouncing Gabriel out of the greenhouse into the rain.

Aziraphale had shot to his feet at the first glimpse, hands clasped behind him, almost physically shielding Crowley. Now he stood, head raised to watch, as Paul of all people blocked Gabriel's path, putting his immovable, unbending stubborness to good use for once.

Crowley cocked his head, picking out Paul's voice. "Is that....?"

"Yes, dear. I wouldn't have thought he had it in him."

"He's a fanatic, angel," Crowley drawled, his face tighter than his voice would suggest as he kneaded his knee. "Once a fanatic, always a fanatic. They just change what they're fanatical about."

* * *

Outside, Professor Gabriel wielded his status like a whip, trying to force the students to back off. Some blocked his way. Others filmed it on their phones. Paul, staring at him for a long moment, felt the defiance that had begun to crumble at the scarred girl's words shatter. This was what he could have turned into - what he almost had turned into. He still didn't like Dr Fell, but he liked what he was seeing even less. He stepped forward, lifting his chin as if his old defiance was still intact and looming as tall as he could. "Get him to the admin!"

The crowd roared, as if it had been waiting for a focus, and surged forward, carrying Professor Gabriel away with it.


End file.
